Vinculis Meis
by morningsong101
Summary: Jim is trying to live by the motto of 'What happened in Golad Prison, stays in Golad Prison'. But no one will let him, not when it is so obviously haunting him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Terra Nova. If I did, I would have released confirmation about a second season weeks (months) ago.**

**Chapter Warnings: Implications of attempted rapes**

Jim remembers it every time he gets dirty, every time mud and dirt cakes his skin and sweat stings his eyes. He hates how it makes him feel suffocated and trapped.

It isn't so much _getting_ dirty that he's...well, not _afraid_, but wary of, it's just _being_ unclean. When his skin is dry and cracked, colored dull brown or vivid red...Jim can hardly stand it sometimes. But what really makes him wary is washing it off.

There's no control over the feeling that rises within him when he showers. Each time he expects the water to be ice cold and the smell of the shampoo to make him gag. The soap will sting and burn..._his wounds need to be cleaned...but it _hurts_...it's going to get infected..._

The bar of soap lands on the floor of the shower with a thud. Jim jumps slightly, saved from the memories fighting to surface. Fighting and succeeding, because Jim isn't willing to bend over and pick up the soap. Even though this is his own house in Terra Nova, his own, private bathroom, he wont. He just stands there and stares at it.

Remembering, of course. Because the memories are sometimes too hard to forget.

Back in Golad Prison, things were very constant. Lights on at six, you wonder if you get breakfast until noon-Jim could tell when it was noon because there was a guard who always patrolled pass his cell at noon-, then you sit there and wait until nightfall-again, there was a guard who always came around at the beginning of the night-and hope for food and water. Or water. Because having one of the two beat having neither. And then you become afraid, after the guard leaves. Because nighttime is when the true hell begins.

The nighttime guards are more malicious. They come to mock and to whip and punch and kick and spit upon you.

But it's not the beatings that are making Jim cringe with...not fear, but wariness. It's how he would get so dirty. There was typically bloodshed-his, not theirs, those lucky bastards. The blood combined with the dust and ash and dirt of his cell and the grease in his hair and sweat on his skin left Jim perhaps one of the most unclean beings on earth. In his opinion at least.

And then, if you were lucky, or unlucky, it could be looked at either way, you were allowed a shower every couple of weeks. Or was it months? Jim never really knew. They would grab you from your cell, whether it was the middle of the day or the middle of the night when you were sleeping and order you into the showers.

Jim never objected. He wanted to be _clean_.

Still, he wonders if being a little bit clean was worth the burn of that soap or the foul scent of the shampoo, or the humiliation of knowing the eyes of other men, both prisoner and guard alike, were on him, measuring him up for either the sake of their pride or because of their...less than honorable desires. And knowing that if one was to make a move, no one would stop them, and he would have to fight them off by himself. He did that a few times. Each time he was punished for causing a disturbance.

There was a knock on the door. Jim jumped again, though was calmed when it was his wife's voice that sounded through the door.

"Jim, sweetheart, do you plan on leaving us any warm water?" Elisabeth asked with a small laugh. He could just see her now: she's wearing her nicest pajamas and her dark hair is silky smooth. She's smiling, and that smile reaches her beautiful eyes. He just knows it.

He clears his throat before speaking, because she'll know that something wasn't entirely right if his voice wavers even the slightest bit.

"Sorry, but no, I don't plan to." he said smartly. He's rewarded with another laugh from Elisabeth.

"Alright, fine. But I'll be waiting in our room."

Honestly, Jim doesn't know what he'd do without Elisabeth. Probably stand there in the shower and turn into a prune. But for now, he'll just hurry out of the shower and lock his darker thoughts deep inside his mind. He'll deal with them...later.

The bar of soap is left on the floor.

##

**Vinculis Meis – My Chains**

**Allegedly, I'm pretty good at funny/dad kind of Jim. I want to go deeper than that (but there will be some humor here, as well as family moments, granted it may be a darker sense of humor. You have been warned.).**

**Speaking of warnings, if you are someone who generally skips authors notes but happens to just sort of be skimming through this-go back up to the top and read the warnings. Do that for every chapter. Vinculis Meis will touch some very serious, dark topics and I don't want anyone to taken off guard or be triggered. However, I do not imagine I'll write something terribly graphic-if I do and it slips by me, I apologize in advanced.**

**I would really appreciate some reviews, just sayin'. Yep. Reviews are always loved.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Warnings: a little talk of violence, but not much.**

Contrary to popular analogies, thunder and gunshots did not sound the same. This was why Jim was good at his job, because gunshots didn't make him...not _afraid_, but nervous. A gunshot was more of a click and a boom, while thunder was more of a rumble. With the occasional boom, yes, but it wasn't the same boom that a gunshot gave out. Not in his opinion.

He can still hear it sometimes before he goes to sleep. The rumbling sound that came before a beating. Typically it's a sudden loud sound that's used to scare the living shit out of you. When this is the case, it doesn't give you any warning or time to prepare. There's the sudden loud rumbling and then pain.

This is usually how it is heard in his head as he falls asleep. He'll lie there and be drifting off and-he's hearing it! And he has to wake up and defend himself, now!

So then he jerks awake with his arms flailing everywhere, waking up Elisabeth. This is when he lets her know that it's not okay, that he needs help forgetting about it.

So then she'll talk and he'll listen. She'll talk about everything. The kids, work, plans for the house. Because even though this is one of the few times he lets her know it's not okay, he wont talk about Golad.

And honestly he prefers this to the other way it happens. The one where it starts as a quiet rumbling.

He can remember sitting his small cell, usually falling asleep or actually being asleep.

It wont even register in his mind yet that there's an odd sound. It will slowly get louder and he'll start to wake up. And then it stops. And just when he starts to go back to sleep, it will begin again. And the cycle will repeat itself, day after day, night after night, before he's exhausted and there's a guard standing over him. And then pain.

These memories are worst, because he can never seem to wake up from them. So he'll lie there all night, groaning and bleeding in his mind's world. And then his wife will wake him up the next morning and comment on how twitchy he was. He'll laugh it off, but she wont. Because she's smarter than that.

And then they'll go about their day.

##

Unfortunately for him, today he's going on a scouting mission with Lieutenant Washington and Commander Taylor to 'check out a possible migration route' for some dinosaurs-Jim wasn't sure which species, he had been thinking about sleep. And, yes, Washington was going to skin him alive for not paying attention.-, but truthfully they were testing Guzman. Taylor called it 'keeping his lieutenant sharp'. In other words, keep him on his toes.

Why was Jim coming along? He had no clue. And he wasn't going to ask, because it was probably explained already and he hadn't been paying attention. Jim would like not to be skinned yet by Washington.

Of course, later he'd be in the jungle practically alone with the fierce woman, so it probably would have been smarter to fess up when they were still in colony. You know, where there were witnesses around.

Jim threw his pack into the back of the rover along with Taylor and Washington's packs. He's packed enough for two days. They wouldn't be too far from the colony, there was no way any of them would stray far from it.

"Alright, Wash, Shannon, you ready to head out?" Taylor called.

"Yes, sir." Washington answered, standing straight. She was sporting her usual cargo pants, combat boots, armor-clad top, pony tail, and thick eyeliner.

Shannon nodded in agreement.

"Alright, then. Shannon, go talk with your wife." Taylor said abruptly. He gestured to the anxious woman hovering a few feet away.

Jim took her hand and led her a few more feet away, hoping for just a little privacy.

She immediately drew him in for a hug. He returned it, hoping to transfer confidence into her. Elisabeth didn't like when he went OTG and he hated worrying her.

"I'll be back before you know it." he said quietly into her ear.

She nodded and they disentangled from each other, though he held onto her hands. She rewarded him with a small smile.

"I know. I'm being silly." she said, just as quietly.

Jim shook his head. "No, you're not. I mean, I'd be worried if you were OTG, too. But we'll be careful and, besides, I'm with _Taylor_." Just the name of the man who'd spent 118 days alone in the jungle seemed to inspire some measure of confidence in them both. The Commander knew what he was doing out there, and Wash was loyal and fierce. Jim was in good company.

"I know. Have...fun." she sighed. "And be careful."

Jim gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Always am."

She smiled and shook her head, murmured an order to return to her, as well as their family, and released him.

The three of them headed to outpost five. Occasionally Washington and Taylor would exchange comments or even slight teasing, but other than that it was quiet. Jim kept to himself in the backseat while they occupied the front. He stared at the greenery passing by, simultaneously soaking it all in while locking it all out-whatever 'it all' was, he wasn't sure, he just knew now wasn't the time to think about it.

"It seems pretty quiet." Taylor said. Jim didn't have to see his face to know who the man was talking to. "You alright back there, Shannon?"

"Yes, sir." Jim said.

"Not getting car sick, are you?" Wash said. Jim wasn't sure, but he wondered if there was a hint of humor in her voice. Ever since he'd gone behind her back during the Memory Virus crisis to take care of his wife, he and Washington had been on rocky ground, so it was difficult to tell.

"No, not getting car sick." he said.

"You're quiet." Wash said, as if to say _'and now your argument is invalid'_.

"No, I'm not." Jim lied. "Maybe you've just mastered the ability of tuning me out."

"Not sure that's possible, Sheriff." Taylor chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind." Jim said, working in some of his typical light-hearted-ness. "Say, since you're both so keen on conversation, perhaps you could fill me on why exactly I'm here?"

The car jerked to a sudden, abrupt left, causing Jim to shift suddenly in his seat. He managed to catch himself before his head whacked into the side of the rover. Taylor turned his head and gave Wash an semi-amused, semi-exasperated look (he'd agreed to let her drive on the condition that she drive sanely and reasonably, something Wash wasn't particularly known for).

"You were briefed days ago." Washington reminded him.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Refresh my memory, lieutenant?" he said, trying to coax whatever ill-wishing thoughts there may be (are) out of the woman's mind.

She sighed before filling him in. "The Commander has a new habit of leaving you in charge when neither he nor I are available. It might have seemed odd to suddenly change that. That, and you've been a pain in the ass in your desperation to go OTG."

He had been rather obvious, hadn't he? He'd tried to leave little hints that he would be more than happy to get outside the gates, but maybe he hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought.

Oh well, the Shannons rarely excelled at subtlety.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to be a pain."

"I'm sure you rarely do."

Jim is pretty sure he's back at square one with Wash, or at least not very far from it.

The drive isn't long, only to the coast. Taylor has brought three of his fishing poles (apparently he has five) so they can spend the day fishing for dinner. It doesn't take long for them to set up camp either, all they have to do is pitch the tent and clear a space for a fire later on. By noontime, they're reclining in chairs, waiting for the fish to bite.

Outwardly, they all swear it's not a competition. But each one of them is keeping score-Taylor has two, though one of the fish is small and ugly as hell. Wash has one, a giant monster that threatened to pull her from her chair. Jim also has one. He would have had two, but he lost it the first time something pulled on his line.

They each keep a part of their mind on guard though. Peaceful as this may be, the wildlife in Terra Nova is known for making surprise visits. Sonic pistols are kept within arms reach and they each take periodic glances around them. Better slightly paranoid and safe then dead and eaten, right?

They've just started roasting Wash's beast of a fish when the clouds move in. Taylor and Wash both sigh before folding their beach chairs and moving any other possession of theirs inside the tent.

"You haven't seen the rain here yet, have you, Shannon?" Taylor asked.

"No, sir." Jim said.

"Let me tell you something, those rainclouds move in quick. I suggest you move your chair and bag inside." Taylor said.

And Taylor was right. They'd barely had enough time to finish roasting the one fish before the first drop splattered down on Wash's forehead. The woman just flicked the offending water away and made her way inside with her portion of the fish on a stick. Taylor and Jim remain outside a little longer, but it's Taylor who gives in to the weather first and follows after Wash.

The rain is something spectacular. It's cold, but for a moment Jim relishes the slight shiver in the air. This is a different kind of cold from the one in 2149. This is natural and calming, whereas the other had been miserable, a reminder of what the human race had done to their planet.

Jim knows he can't stand out there forever. He ducks into the tent before he becomes soaked.

"Have fun?" Wash asked.

Jim smiled. "As a matter of fact, yes. The rain feels nice."

And then he hears it. The rumbling tears through the air, leaving him momentarily immobile. It's a sound familiar to him, but not one he really thought about facing here in Terra Nova.

"Thunder surprise you?" Taylor asked with a grin. Jim can just sort of make it out in the rapidly dimming light.

Slowly, Jim shrugged. "Just a bit-"

And suddenly the tent is lit up. He sees his companions clear as day for an instant before the light disappears.

Lightning. This doesn't catch his attention quite like the thunder did, but it still sends a thrill through him.

There's rarely ever rain in 2149 and even fewer thunderstorms. The last one Jim experienced was in 2135 and even now he can remember curling up with his family, both Maddy and Josh still young enough to want their parent's comfort during the frightening flashes and rumbles.

Homesickness courses through him, but he pushes it aside. He'll see Elisabeth and the kids tomorrow and they'll share stories about their first storm in Terra Nova. Still, he wishes he could be there for Zoe, but at least his little girl has Elisabeth and her two siblings to find comfort from.

"Good luck getting to sleep tonight." Wash muttered.

"I'll take first watch." Jim said, attempting to bring back Wash's good graces and-if he's being honest with himself-avoid sleeping. Another round of thunder, and Jim feels himself tense up again.

"That's alright, Shannon. I'll take first watch. Get some rest." Taylor ordered.

"Wake me up in a couple of hours, I'll take over watch then. Shannon can take over after me." Wash decided. Her tone, though subordinate, clearly says '_don't you stay up all night, sir'_.

"Alright, I'll wake you up in a few hours." Taylor said, almost too easily. Jim has little to no doubt that Taylor isn't going to wake anyone up.

It takes a while for him to fall asleep. Wash is out before him, he can tell by her even breathing. But eventually, he manages.

##

It's been more than a few hours and Nathaniel has certainly not woken anyone up. Wash and Shannon have worked their asses off these past few months and they deserve their rest. Oh, no doubt Wash will huff and puff about it in the morning, but Nathaniel doesn't mind in the least seeing his lieutenant riled up. He finds it...endearing.

But what isn't in the least endearing is how restless Shannon is. He's tossed and turned all night, nearly kicking off his blanket and ending up a lot closer to Wash's little portion of the tent then either of them would be comfortable with if they were awake (the two had an odd relationship. It sometimes hurt Nathaniel's head when he tried to figure how they worked so well together while constantly pissing the other off.).

As if to prove his point, Shannon makes a jerking motion with his leg before-_SLAP!_ His hand collides with Wash's face. The woman is instantly up and reaching for her gun.

"Easy there, lieutenant." Nathaniel cautioned before she accidentally (or otherwise) shoots Shannon.

"Sir?" Wash sounds anything but forgiving. Fitting, considering how she was woken up.

"Seems Shannon is having some vivid dreams."

He can hear her rustling through her bag. There's a small click and suddenly the tent is illuminated in bright light.

She's staring at Shannon, an irritated look on her face. As if to taunt her, Shannon twitches.

"You think if I shine this in his face, he'll wake up, sir?"

Nathaniel can't help but smile at her. She put on a good show of disliking Shannon, but he knew she was (slowly) becoming more fond of the man's company. "Are you willing to test that out?" It's not a challenge, she knows it. So she covers the flashlight slightly with her hand, dimming the light so as not to awake their sleeping companion. "He get you good, Wash?"

Wash scowls at him. "No."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, sir."

Nathaniel just grins at her. Her flat tone is giving away the fact that she's holding back, not letting any damaged pride leak out. His lieutenant is awfully prickly when it comes to her pride, another endearing trait of hers.

"I'm assuming it's been more than a few hours?" Wash questioned.

Well, damn.

"You would be correct, lieutenant." he answered evenly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Wash asked.

"Didn't need to."

"You should have-" Wash started.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Lieutenant Washington?" Nathaniel. He sounds completely authoritative, but inside he's merely teasing. From the slight flush in her cheeks, Nathaniel knows their next sparring match will be a challenge for him. He's accused her of not trusting him, something he's pretty positive she'll always do.

"Of course not, sir." Wash answered quickly. "Still, as your medic, it's my job to make sure you're healthy and rested."

"Quite frankly, I'd rather be awake and a little tired than be slapped around by Shannon." Nathaniel goaded.

Wash just shakes her head and closes her eyes. He makes another mark on the mental tally. One more win for him.

They lapse into comfortable silence, much like they'd done years ago in Somalia. The rain is falling at a less aggressive pace, but the storm is definitely still going.

The loud rumbling nearly blocks out the sound and the lightning nearly blinds them from the action, but Shannon is at it again. This time, though, he makes a small moan. Not a happy one, either. Nathaniel recognizes this moan, has heard it from fallen soldiers before. The younger man's hand jerks up for a moment, as if to protect his body.

Wash and Nathaniel lock gazes for a moment. Whatever is going on in Shannon's dreamworld isn't pleasant.

It's with uncertainty that they leave to him to battle off the monsters in his dreamworld. By morning time, Nathaniel feels almost bad at leaving the man to toss and turn and groan all night.

And when Shannon comments on the slight discoloration on Wash's cheek, she doesn't mention anything.

Neither of them mention anything at all.

##

**There we have it, chapter two. Thanks to everyone who put Vinculis Meis on story alert! Just a little hint: I'll post chapters quicker if I get reviews. What can I say? Reviews bring on inspiration to write.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings: None**

Elisabeth Shannon is a patient person. She understands how important it is to save certain words for certain moments, knows how to shove aside anything resembling panic. If she waits just long enough, chances are things will work out all on their own.

But she's waited long enough and has run out of patience with her husband. Everyone in Chicago has heard the rumors about what happens inside Golad walls, and based on Jim's behavior, those rumors have more than a little truth to them.

A part of her is hurt that he wont talk to her about it. But that feeling is quickly pushed aside in favor of a more rational train of thought. He's been hurt. He's stubborn. And he's proud. Terribly, infuriatingly proud-but that's Jim, and no matter how proud, she'll always love him.

And that's how she justifies what she's about to do (how she justifies a lot of things she does). It's _because_ she loves Jim that she's doings this. All she has to do is be patient and wait for the right moment, because otherwise it wont work out quite right.

The right moment reveals itself not long after she makes this decision. Malcolm is sick, so the responsibility of updating Commander Taylor on the latest discoveries in the science department falls to her. She tells him what he needs to know, well aware of how the man hates unnecessary jargon. But she knows how to act, subtly let on that something's not quite right. She appears slightly distracted, places a small frown on her face instead of her usual smile. She drums her fingers once or twice against a counter and lets out the smallest hint of a sigh.

"Everything alright, Doc?" Taylor asked.

Immediately a smile lights up her features, but it's obviously not her usual warm smile, and she's not even pretending.

"I suppose so." she says, keeping her hands busy by sorting through files on a plex.

"You seem off. Something bothering you?" the man insist. She and Taylor aren't close, not really even friends, but they have a strong mutual respect for the other. Still, if she assures him nothing's wrong one too many times, he'll back off and her chance will be gone, so she takes the opportunity.

She sighs, for real this time (make no mistake, she really is worried), and sets down her plex. "It's...difficult to explain, sir."

"I'm sure we can figure it out." Taylor says confidently.

"It's Jim." she says quietly. She doesn't want everyone in the colony to overhear them, so she's sure to keep her voice down.

"He alright?" he asked.

"I'm not sure." she answered. "It's just...he never got any preparation for Terra Nova. They ran a psyche evaluation, of course, but he never met with a counselor."

Taylor looked interested, as she expected. "He seems to be getting along just fine, Doc."

"Sure, when he's kept busy. But..."

"You think he's having trouble adjusting." Taylor finished for her. She nodded. "Have him talk to an adjustment counselor."

"I tried. He says he doesn't need to." she said.

Taylor looked at her contemplatively. She had a feeling he knew what she was doing, maneuvering him into a position to get Jim some help. He didn't call her on it, though.

"I'll talk to him, see if there's anything that can be done." Taylor said finally.

"You don't have to, it's not your responsibility." she said, inwardly feeling a flare of triumph, accompanied by guilt; she didn't like ganging up on Jim.

He raised an eyebrow, as if to say _'really, after all the effort you just went through?'_. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll talk to him."

"Thank you." she said sincerely.

##

Nathaniel was amused. Dr. Shannon wasn't as innocent as she seemed, yet she was entirely transparent. It was endearing, listening to her sigh and fret all the while giving him a hopeful look.

However, what she had to say was less than endearing. She'd said Shannon was having trouble adjusting to Terra Nova. A few days ago he'd have assured her that her husband was fine and moved on. But after the episode by the beach during the storm, he had to wonder if she was right.

Shannon had come totally unprepared. He went from life in a cell to sunshine and Sixers.

He knew what his decision would be. Nathaniel Taylor was not a man who willingly jeopardized the well-being of his men, soldier or cop. Maybe it made him a hypocrite, but he wasn't going to let his men go without help.

There would be no 'talking about it', Shannon would be making a few visits to the adjustment counselors.

##

"Guzman said you wanted to see me?" Jim asked, entering the Command Center. Taylor sat behind his dino desk, a plex in his hand, which he set down.

"I've been thinking, Shannon. I want you to speak with an adjustment counselor."

Jim stopped dead in his tracks. "Sir?"

"I've asked Dr. Royce to meet with you tomorrow at nine. I expect you'll be there on time." Taylor said.

"That's not necessary-" Jim protested.

"Maybe not, but I don't see how any harm can come from it." Taylor said.

"Sir, I don't need to talk to an adjustment counselor." Jim said. He looked at Taylor like he'd grown a second head; where did this idea even come from anyways?

"It's an order, Shannon. Tomorrow at nine in the Infirmary." Taylor ordered.

Jim gave him his best 'what the hell' look.

He didn't need to talk to anyone about anything.

##

**I swear I'll let up on the POV hopping real soon. In the meantime, the more reviews I get, the faster I'll update...go ahead, click on the little review button...you know you want to.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings: none yet**

Jim arrived at the psychiatric wing of the infirmary a little before nine. Unlike the hospital, this place is less open. Glass walls divide rooms, some of which have blinds shut so you can't see a peak of light within. There are considerably less people here, but it's still plenty busy. The receptionist waves him over, a friendly smile frozen on her face.

"What can we do for, sir?" she asks.

Jim rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his when he's embarrassed. And he is most definitely embarrassed to be here. "Uh, Dr. Royce? Nine o'clock."

She nods and types something onto a computer. "She'll be right out. If you want, you can take a seat over there." she said, gesturing to a small area dedicated to chairs. Jim takes a seat, grunting.

Maybe he should have gone for a jog or done some sort of exercise this morning, because his muscles are irritatingly stiff. He'd done a few stretches this morning, trying to work out the kinks in his shoulders, but it seemed that his his effort had been in vain.

Hm. Maybe he was getting old.

Like the receptionist said, Dr. Royce called him in after just a minute or two. She was a tall woman, she had to be over six feet tall. Her blond hair was up in a simply messy bun. It was only when he stopped and stood awkwardly that she turned her gaze on him, brown eyes giving him a soft, searching look behind the glasses.

"Morning." she said warmly. "Why don't you take a seat?"

There was no 'therapy couch', which Jim was thankful for. Jim took a seat in chair that was almost ridiculously comfortable while the doctor sat down in a similar chair instead of her office chair.

"So, what brings you to my office?" she asked. "James, right?"

"Jim." he corrected. "And I'm here because Commander Taylor told me to be here." he said bluntly.

She 'hmm-ed'. And Jim knew that when a woman went 'hm', it usually meant trouble, and usually for him.

"You work for Commander Taylor as a cop?" she asked. He nodded. "Did he tell you why he wanted to you to have counseling?"

"No, ma'am. Just told me to be here on time." Jim answered. He was still more than confused on that. He told Elisabeth about it, but she didn't know anything either, just said that the Commander probably had his reasons.

"Why do you think he would decide you needed counseling?" she pressed.

Jim shrugged. "I honestly don't know."

"Well, alright. I'm sure we'll figure it out." she said, giving him another smile meant to put him at ease. It worked, but only a little. "Why don't you tell me about your family?"

It went on like that as Dr. Royce picked apart each section of his home life. Tell me about your wife, tell me about your son, tell me about your daughters-tell me about having a third child.

He raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"It must have been a big decision to keep your third child and I imagine it must have been difficult to keep her hidden for three years." she said sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly a walk in the park." Jim muttered.

"Looking back now, would you have changed anything?" she asked.

Jim smiled wryly. "Anything at all?" She nodded. "I would have been more careful. I would have tried harder not to get us caught."

Her eyes are studying him, one hundred percent analyzing him. "Do you know how the population police found about Zoe?"

Jim shook his head. "We think someone in our building gave them a tip."

"Hm."

Enough with the 'hm' sounds.

"What was it like that night, when you taken to jail to await trial?"

"How do you think?" Jim answers with more force than necessary. And this is why he'll never like psychologists (he much prefers surgeons like his wife). They get you alone in a room and ask about everything, even when the answer has got to be obvious or obviously private.

She doesn't appear startled. He gets the impression that beneath that calm mask, she's taking apart his every word.

"Tell me about Golad."

And that's where Jim absolutely draws the line. He doesn't mean to be rude, doesn't mean the way he glares at her. It's a sudden change in his mood, so abrupt that it's dizzying.

"With all due respect, Dr. Royce, but that's not really any of your business." he snaps. He immediately regrets his tone; that's not him, he doesn't talk to people like that, and that one sentence was hardly a good reason to do so.

It must show on his face, because she holds up a hand to keep his apology at bay. "I suppose you're right. If, however, you change your mind, just remember it's my job to listen." she said reassuringly.

"Now, what about your own parents..."

And it goes on and on.

##

At the end of the hour, Eileen Royce has multiple pages of notes on James 'Jim' Shannon. She's heard from him about his family (he practically worships his wife, adores his children), didn't know his father (deadbeat high school dad), has a dead brother (also a cop), and his mother passed away a few years ago due to long term illness. He's impartial to the colors blue and green and dislikes the cold.

He also refused to talk about Golad, and if you mentioned the troubles of having a third child, he got real prickly, real fast.

Now, Eileen Royce can understand this, doesn't like to talk about the crimes of her past either. She also used to work in a prison in San Diego before coming to Terra Nova, so she knows all too well what happens inside prisons. In fact, that's probably why Commander Taylor 'requested' that she be the one to help Mr. Shannon.

She highlights the section in her notes about Golad Prison and Zoe Shannon. They were worthy of further interest.

But otherwise, Mr. Shannon fits in well in Terra Nova-he's taken to it like a child would take to candy. She'll be sure to mention this to the Commander, but the rest of this stays between her and the patient.

Putting a reassuring smile on her face, Eileen Royce opens the door and calls in the next patient.

##

**I'm really not all that happy with this chapter. The scene just went better in my mind, I guess. And sorry about the wait-I have a few good excuses prepared, but I'll spare you and just promise to try not wait so long to update again.**

**If anyone was looking for some more TN fics to read, I strongly recommend checking out ebi pers. Ebi is one of my personal favorite TN writers, and my current favorites include 'Frozen in Time' and 'Past and Future'. Go on and check them out, you know you want to...**

**A little hint: the more reviews I get the quicker I'll update... ;)**


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